How does nothing fit into a sentence?

Loss stuffed into swelling syllables

By a white coated man with

God in his words and pain in his eyes.

Nothing to echo round the empty consonants and vowels,

But the agony of his poor widow's howls.

He died at 5:13am at age 50.

Future folded. Once then twice.

Straining against the torn edges

Of the words.

They say the minute his heart gave out

But not the moment months ago when

He was swallowed by statistics.

Leaving only a neatly tied collection of

Commiseration and condolence.

Each letter offends, scuffed by insufficiency

But They endure:

He died at 5:13am at age 50

He died at 5:13am

He died.